


The 5-Minute Game

by Shipsterella



Series: The 3-Minute Game [2]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: BDSM, Consent is still sexy, Established Relationship, F/F, Light BDSM, Nipple Play, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipsterella/pseuds/Shipsterella
Summary: Miranda and Andy have an Anniversary tradition and guess what today is.(If you want deep and meaningful, this is not the fic you seek.)





	The 5-Minute Game

**Author's Note:**

> The rules of The 3-Minute Game can be found in part 1 or Googled if you don't want to read it. I highly recommend both, personally.  
> They add a minute for every anniversary. I'm not sure when they'll cap it. Telanu gave them 50 years together. Can you imagine 53 minutes per round? Hey, maybe that's what led to their heart attacks...
> 
> Not beta'd and it's nearly 3AM so forgive any mistakes you find. If they're too horrendous, let me know in the comments and I'll fix them. Nothing pulls me out of a good story quicker than an ill-placed typo. I ain't about that life. You won't hurt my feelings, promise!

We're celebrating our anniversary tonight. It's been two years of learning one another and sharing our lives together.

The townhouse is empty. We debated revisiting the study to reenact that momentous night that jump-started our relationship but decided the bedroom would suit us better. We would have ended up here anyway.

"How would you like me to touch you for five minutes, Andrea?"

Nobody says my name like she does and she knows how it affects me. Her voice alone makes me come undone but the way she says my name makes me come _alive_.

"You know how much I love your scalp massages, my love."

"Acceptable." She says icily but counters the tone of her voice with a playful smirk.

She leans against the headboard, ready to sit behind me like that first time.

"Not quite." I chuckle and extend her legs in front of her so I can use them as a pillow. I lie across them, face down. This is worlds apart from before, when we were both so unsure and entering uncharted territory with one another for the first time.

"Don't forget the timer, beautiful." My voice is muffled by her legs which earns an amused snort from above as she sets it and starts scratching my head with her magic fingers, just the way she knows I crave.

I moan shamelessly.

The timer sounds and I groan. I can't complain too much, though because we're just getting started and knowing what the night ahead could hold while simultaneously not knowing thrills me. Miranda never ceases to surprise me with this game. She's far more adventurous and open than I expected, more than I could have hoped. The fantasies that carried me through my tenure pining for her pale in comparison to the wonder that is an unguarded, passionate Miranda. Her exes are complete morons for letting her get away and the press couldn't be more wrong with their characterization of her if they tried.

Luckily, I'm not so easily fooled.

 

"How would you like me to touch you for five minutes, my love?"

"Five minutes of your hands massaging my ass sounds wonderful, darling."

That's another thing I've discovered. Within the sanctity of our sanctuary, Miranda's vocabulary is much different. I never appreciated the effect of a well-placed, well-chosen word until my personal editrix opened my eyes, well ears, to the delicious possibilities.

"Ooh, my favorite! How generous of you!"

"Yes, I'm well-known for my kind and giving spirit. Ask anyone."

She removes her skirt but leaves the cerulean La Perla thong on, another generous gift for me, an inside joke and a gift, and lies face down on the bed. I climb on and straddle her thighs before starting the timer and my slow ministrations to one of the many things I love about this glorious creature currently beneath me. It's not lost on me how lucky I am that she lets me love her, not for a single minute.

The timer goes off and I turn it off and reset it but I don't let Miranda up. She chuckles knowingly before I hear those cherished words:

"How would you like to touch me for five minutes, darling?"

"Will you allow me to spank you, Miranda?"

She had guessed right. I think this is what she really wanted when she chose her massage, and her choice of thong does nothing to dissuade my theory, but there's no way I'd ever call her out on it. I'm happy to comply, as is she. Why the hell would I complain?

We've dabbled in some kinks and light bondage. Once we built up trust in one another, which had more to do with overcoming past hurts than a lack of faith in each other, and built our connection together, we were able to explore our desires and find our limits. She's into light physical pain, no humiliation. Humiliation doesn't bother me and I embrace service. Surprise, surprise. She's a masterful dom but enjoys playing the role of sub sometimes so we seamlessly switch. We both love worship and praise. It's so freeing to have someone to share it all with that I love and trust.

She wiggles her delectable ass at me and I realize I've been ruminating too long. She will never like to be kept waiting. I'll punish her for that next time we play. She'll wait. And she'll enjoy every minute of it.

I start the timer and start lightly slapping at the meatiest part of her curves. Five minutes can be a long time if you linger too much so I build slowly, making sure this remains pleasurable. She's squirming and writhing beneath me.

"Use your safeword if you want to stop before the timer goes off, sweetheart."

She glares at me over her shoulder and I get the message "You're wasting time!" loud and clear.

My palm meets her flesh with a little more force to make up for that lost time and she yelps a little. It sends a jolt right through me. I do the same to the other cheek. She was expecting it so she moans instead this time. Several more slaps elicit the most tantalizing sounds before the timer sounds.

I kiss each cheek before climbing off and sitting up against the headboard to allow us both a chance to catch our breath. Once Miranda has stopped panting, she moves to join me against the headboard. We lock fingers.

"Thank you." She says, still slightly breathless. I can't help but laugh appreciatively. "Anytime, sweetheart. Literally, any time."

She chuckles.

"How would you like to touch me for five minutes, gorgeous?"

"I would like to explore your nipples."

Yep, there it is. She always manages to surprise me. I don't know why I'm so surprised at my being surprised.

"Sounds amazing. How do you want me?"

"I'm going to sit behind you. I want you sitting with your back to my chest. Lose your shirt. And your bra." The gleam in her eye at that last bit is almost blinding. I lose them both. Immediately.

She sets the timer and opens her arms for me. I snuggle in and she kisses my neck before setting the clock.

"Cheater." I joke. She bites the spot she had been kissing in protest and the countdown starts.

She reaches around with her right hand and circles my nipple with feather-light pressure. I arch into the touch, silently pleading for more. She complies, slowly adding more pressure to the circles then mirrors the movements with her other hand simultaneously. My eyes slam shut and my head falls back to allow more access. Or maybe because it takes too much concentration to hold it up any longer and my attention is directed elsewhere at the moment, who knows? Who cares? The circles cease and I feel her gently pinch the right nipple before rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. She's still so gentle. I moan so loudly it echoes and I can feel her breathing grow deeper behind me. She bestows the same attention on the left one, too. It's so gentle. I'm writhing. She adjusts the angle and I feel her hand settle against each breast, like a thumbs up, before her thumbs pinch each nipple between the thumb and index finger. She knows exactly how much pressure to use and starts pulsing her pinches in a rhythm that sets my entire body on fire. She kneads as she pinches, never ceasing that pulsing rhythm. I'm going to go hoarse. I can't control my body's reactions or the screams she's eliciting.

When I come to, she's holding me tightly and whispering reassurances in my ear. I'll never reveal that her choice was what I had hoped for since we had recently discovered just how sensitive my nipples are. She probably knew. She always knows.

"Mmm, Happy Anniversary, my love."

"Happy Anniversary, darling." She whispers directly into my ear.

We both know the importance of treasuring each minute we spend together so we start again. This time, we ignore the timer and focus on the gift each of us wants to give with a full heart. It's tradition, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Awww, that got all sappy at the end. *swoon*  
> Will there be a "How would you like me to love you for a lifetime?" sequel?  
> Sure, if you write it. ;)
> 
> (Someone please write it.)


End file.
